The Brave and the Lonely
by LoveDanielGirl
Summary: Harry is entering his sixth year at Hogwarts, and feeling depressed. He had gotten himself into a tight spot during the Summer Holidays, and is still able to keep himself in trouble through the year. Only one person can ease his trauma, but will she notic
1. The Abused

**_CHAPTER1: THE ABUSED_**

**_  
_**Harry raised his arm to its full extent, just above his head. Then, bringing it down in a slashing movement, he traveled his hand along his wrist. The wound was emitting blood. He opened his clenched hand, and let an object fall onto his rock hard bed.

The sunshine coming through the window shone on something, making it glint, a blinding white light. Harry looked down at his bed, where the object lay. It had a black, plastic handle, and a long, thin blade, which ended in a sharp point, which was stained with a red, sticky substance. It was his blood oozing on the end.

It was a knife. Not just any knife though. He had been careful in his selection of knives at the start of the summer. He had chosen his Uncles sharpest, and pointiest knives he could find in the drawer. His Uncles Butcher Knife, that sat in the draw every day because it was never used for anything.

Harry looked at the opposite wall, immersed in his own troubled thoughts. He remembered last year when his Guardian, One of the only connections left from his parents, His Parents Best Friend, had died. He died at the hand of his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. He, Harry, had run down the steps that led to the Battle Scene that was going on before him. He, Harry, had yelled Sirius' name, over and over again, yelling at him to come back. Neville had asked Harry if he had known Sirius, asked if had LOVED him. Harry knew that Sirius' would've rather to die fighting and a free man, than be trapped in a criminal's body, being accused of his Best Friends death. Harry also knew that even though Sirius wanted to see his best friend again, he would've rather to have lived a happy and full life with Harry. With Harry.

Harry might have been able to take the death of Sirius a little bit better than he had, but the constant mocking of Malfoy and his cronies, who's dads had all been there on the night Sirius had died, had driven him to the edge, and adding to it, was everyone else's constant sympathy, especially from his two Best Friends and his Headmaster, Professor Albus Dumbledore. Harry had felt himself pulling further and further away from everyone, until he ended up isolating himself, in the Library or up in the Astronomy Tower. He had started to get severely ill and skipped all his classes. He could tell almost everyone was worried about him. He had stopped coming down to any meals, and nobody ever saw him. His friends and the teachers had come up to the Tower to persuade him to come down to lessons, or to eat something. But Harry just sat on the window sill, looking out the window across the grounds and ignored them. Of course, he had practically stopped talking all together. His hatred was strong. Especially to his Headmaster, whom he'd had a fight with the night they had got back from the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry. He hadn't said one word all summer, and just did as he was told. He knew his Uncle wasn't worried about him, according to the fact that he beat Harry senseless when he did something wrong. But his cousin and Aunt were different. They sympathized for him. Which, he hated. Every time he walked past them, either in a daze or just emotionless, they would cast a sympathy filled stare towards him. They were hoping to cheer him up, but only succeeding in making him worse than he was before.

Harry fell backwards and looked out the window and watched the sun set, illuminating the ever growing dark sky. Had he really been thinking that long? Harry closed his eyes, and let sleep come over him. Harry fell into a troubled dream, full of angry voices, the faces of all the Weasley's, Hermione, and the whole teaching staff. But what upset in his sleep, was the fact that Sirius seemed to stand out from the crowd, talking, holding his hand out to Harry. But Harry couldn't hear what he was saying, and every time he went nearer, he got further away, the voice blending into millions of angry voices, accusing him of Sirius' death.

--

Harry was pulled out of his deep slumber, by someone pulling him by the arm roughly, out of bed. Harry knew better than to moan, for the beating that he knew was about to come would be even worse if he did. Wondering what he had done now, Harry looked up at his Uncle, while standing up firmly. None his Uncles beatings hurt at the time when he was hitting him, but the pain came about two hours later, sometimes preventing from getting to sleep.

"You slept in, Boy," Uncle Vernon whispered with an anger in his voice that Harry recognized, "I have been waiting down there for my breakfast for 5 minutes."

Harry knew that this was bad, even though it was only 5 minutes. Even if he had gotten down 2 minutes late he would've got in trouble.

"Talk, Boy! I won't have any more of this nonsense of you not talking. What happened that made you stop talking? And why haven't you been writing to those freaky friends of yours? I don't want that Godfather of yours coming here."

That was it. He had hit a nerve. Harry's eyes suddenly became overly bright, causing his Uncle to stop and stare. Then a manic grin spread across Uncle Vernon's face.

"He's dead, isn't he?"

All Harry could do to answer, was nod. His Uncle let a high laugh that didn't sound right. Uncle Vernon raised his fist menacingly above his nephew, and said,

"There's no-one to protect you know, eh. Not one. You're all alone with nowhere to go." He bought down his fat fist, and with one swift movement, clobbered Harry in the face, sending him flying backwards into the wall, knocking him unconscious in the process.

Uncle Vernon smirked, than went out of the bedroom and down the hall to his room where his wife was sitting up in bed.

"What was that thud, Vernon?" Aunt Petunia asked curiously. Being the noisy person that she was, she had to know everything.

"Harry." Vernon grunted softly, "Flying into the wall."

"Was he late down to breakfast again?" Vernon nodded. "You know, I think you're to rough on the poor boy. I mean…" She quickly corrected herself, "He is ill, and we don't want his lot coming to the front door in the middle of the day, dressed as freaks. Do we now?" Vernon looked at her, than let out a slow nod, letting her know that he agreed, and was going to knock her into next week. Not that he would do that to his wife though. That punishment was for the boy.


	2. The Rescue

CHAPTER 2: THE RESCUE

Harry woke up once again, but this time he was lying on the wooden floor of his little bedroom. He had a major headache. That he could tell as soon as he woke up. He moved one of his arms slowly to the back of his head, and felt something sticky. He bought his hand back down to have a look, and saw, Blood. His Uncle had thrown him against the wall? No, his Uncle had punched him and he had gone flying into the wall. Harry groaned.

With a mighty effort, that Harry felt might have killed him, if he hadn't been holding onto the wall, stood up. The first thing he noticed was Hedwig, who was sitting on the desk with a letter tied to her leg. Harry staggered slowly over to the desk, and reached out towards the letter. He untied it from Hedwig's leg, and collapsed onto his bed, where he opened it. It was from Ron and Hermione.

It said,

_'Dear Harry,_

_How are you doing mate? Are ya holdin' up? Me, I'm fine. Me and Hermione have been tryin' to find out what's been happenin' with the Order. No luck so far. Of course. Now that Fred and George are of age, they're allowed in the Order, but they have also been sworn to secrecy, so they don't tell us a thing. Have you started talking again Harry? Please do, we missed your voice when you stopped talking. We noticed that you stopped talking when you came out of Dumbledore's office the night when… You know, um, Sirius died.' _Harry sucked in his breath, but kept reading all the same. _'Did somethin' go down in there? Is that the reason why you stopped talkin'? _

_Well, we're comin' ta get ya today. At 5:00PM. It's me Hermione, Dad, Lupin and Dumbledore comin' ta get ya._

_We'll see you soon,_

_Love,_

_Hermione and Ron_

_P.S. Mum says Hi. (She wouldn't let me send the letter until I had written it down). She also says to start talkin' if ya already haven't started talkin'. She says that she would like to hear your voice as soon as ya come through the door. Everybody else says Hi as well. Bye! We will be goin' ta Grimmauld Place.' Cya Soon_

Harry put the letter down and let out a troubled sigh. No, he wasn't ready to talk and he wasn't going to start talking just because of them. No way. He looked down at the letter again, and read the words, _'We will be goin' ta Grimmauld Place.' _He let out another sigh. There was absolutely no way that he was going to Grimmauld Place. There were too many memories. He had to let them know he wasn't going anywhere with them, at all. He stood up again, and sat down at his small desk. He pulled a piece of parchment and quill towards him. He loaded up his quill, paused for a second, as if thinking then started to write. 10 minutes later, he was finished.

It read:

_'To Ron, Hermione and anybody else at Grimmauld Place that might read this letter, _including_ Professor Dumbledore,_

_No, I have not started talking, and I'm not going to just for the sake of you people. Don't bother coming to get me, I won't be going anywhere. I especially won't be going to Grimmauld Place. I have realized that I don't belong in the Wizarding World where I could further endanger the people I love. _Not _including Dumbledore. I don't love him, and I don't think I ever will. I looked up to you Professor, and all you ever did was disappoint me all the god damn time. I will _never _forgive you. Ever._

_As I said, don't bother picking me up at 5, because if you come, I wont be there. Have you got that? I don't care what any of you say anymore. My mission is to find Sirius. And as you can guess, there is only one way to find him. Death. By the time you find me, I will probably have killed myself and will be laying in a dirty gutter, by the sidewalk. That is obviously where I belong._

_Go on with your lives, and forget me,_

_Harry._

_P.S. Take care of Hedwig for me. Goodbye. Forever._

Harry re-read the letter three times, than gestured to Hedwig to come over to him. She obeyed quickly, and held out her leg obediently. Harry gestured to the name and address. Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger. 12 Grimmauld Place. To indicate that he wanted her to deliver it to those people, and that address. Hedwig gave a soft hoot while he tied the letter to her leg, and than she perched herself on Harry's arm as Harry walked to the window. Then Harry spoke. It was only a few words, but he needed to let Hedwig know the truth,

"Don't come back. Bye. I love you." His voice sounded hoarse, and anything hardly anything came out, but Hedwig got the gist, and let out a sad hoot. Surprisingly, Hedwig's beady eyes filled with tears, and slowly dribbled into her feathers. Harry lent over and kissed her on the top of her head. Hedwig rose up off his arm, and soared out the open window, gliding away in the glistening morning light.

Harry started to move around his room, picking up his stray things, and dumping them into a pile in his trunk. He wouldn't be needing any of his stuff, so he got another piece of parchment, and wrote a few words on it, then sealed it shut and put it on top of his trunk.

A little while later Harry was setting off to the park, with just one object. The knife.

--

Hermione paced around the room over and over again, awaiting Harry's reply while everybody else just sat down at the table wondering if Harry had started talking yet, and if he was okay.

Everybody was deep in the thought, when they were suddenly pulled back to the real world by Hermione's shriek.

"It's here," She screamed, waving around a letter with Emerald writing on the front. "It's addressed to me and Ron. I guess he wants us to too read it first."

Ron walked over to Hermione, while she opened the letter. As they read it, both their eyes widened in horror, and when they finished, Hermione flung her arms around Ron's neck, sobbing hysterically. Dumbledore was the first to move, and has he to read the letter he let one tear escape his eye, before he looked up, the entire twinkle lost in his eye.

"Everybody, we don't have any time to summon anyone from the Order. We don't have much time." Everybody looked up, confused.

"What is it Dumbledore?" Molly asked, apparently confused.

As a reply Dumbledore passed her Harry's letter. She to burst into tears as soon as she finished it. Molly passed the letter to Tonks, then Tonks passed to Arthur, then Arthur passed it to Fred and George, and they then passed it to 'Mad Eye' Moody.

Everybody around the table was mostly in complete shock. What had Harry done? Without a word everyone stood up in one movement, and commanded the younger kids to stay here while they go and look for Harry. This caused an up roar.

"Harry is our Best Friend!" Ron shouted, "You can't leave us out of this!"

"We can… And we will," Molly replied, "This is a dangerous situation. If we don't find Harry in time… Well… You get the picture." She blew her nose rather hard on a tissue, than said. "We're wasting time. Lets get moving." All the adults left the room, and walked out the front door. All the kids could hear the slamming of the door as the last person out shut it.

"I sooo hope they find him time," Hermione cried, "I don't know what I would do without him."

"We all hope they find him, Hermione," Ron said weakly, "But right at this time, all we can do is wait."

They walked into the Lounge and stared into the slowly dying fire, while they waited for the news that would affect the whole world.

--

Harry sat on the edge of the road, holding the knife up to the solitary light, which was casting the only warmth in the night air that was around him. He lifted himself up from the hard concrete floor, and once again raised the knife up above his head. A picture of his Godfather went through his mind. He'd be able to see him again. And his mother and father. He would see them to. Harry smiled softly, pleasure filling his heart. Then a picture of his two Best Friends went through his mind. What would they be doing at this point in time? Had they received his letter? And if they had, what were they doing about it? Were they crying? Were they laughing? Harry just couldn't tell.

He had already bought the knife down along his arm in a swift traveling motion. By now, he had cuts all along his pale arms and legs. The sight of the blood made Harry's skin tingle pleasantly, giving him a warm feeling. He could see the darkness creeping into his line of vision, alerting him that only one more stab would do it. A soft noise came from behind Harry, of someone pulling a wand out of their belt.

Harry whirled around to see a dark figure standing behind him, with his wand drawn and pointing at Harry's heart.

"Well, well, well! What do we have here?" The drawling voice that couldn't be mistaken for none other than Lucius Malfoy broke the still night, "It seems that the famous Harry Potter has finally cracked, and is now attempting to kill himself. How…. Sad!"

Harry narrowed his eyes to small slits, but even then you could see that his eyes were blazing with a bright green fire that_ no-one_ had ever seen before. He spat on the ground at Malfoy's feet.

"That's what I think of you." Harry stated with a furious anger in his voice, making it waver slightly.

"Why, you insolent little brat. Even when you are on the verge of death you still manage to be cheeky. You must get it from your father. He was as cheeky as you are. But your anger. Well, you surely didn't get that from any of your relatives. I wonder where it comes from." Malfoy raised his wand, and said a few more words.

"I know what I'm going to do with you. I suppose if I'm ever going to help you, it will be now. Don't move!" Harry scurried backwards off the pavement and onto the tarred road.

"Harry, Harry, Harry. Don't be frightened. I thought this was what you wanted," Lucius Malfoy drawled quietly, "It might not seem it, but I'm actually trying to Rescue someone."

"Yeah! I know who," Harry retorted, "Your master."

"No! I'm rescuing… You!"

A/N: I hope you liked my new chapter. I can honestly say that I am furrowly enjoying reading it over and over. But it isn't up to me to judge, it's up to you who have decided to read my story. This is my first Harry Potter Story, so I hope you liked it. Please tell me if you like it. Oh... By the way. I'm not going to submit another chapter until I get a few more Reviews.

Cya!


End file.
